Redemption of the Scarlet Tide
by Lucky Flip
Summary: You all know Cervantes, right? The madman who wants Soul Edge more than anything? And Yoshimitsu, the mysterious samurai thief? Well, their stories run much deeper and intertwine more closely than you may have first thought. NOT SLASH!
1. Games of Chance

**((Hello, world of FF! I am Lucky Flip. It's good to be here, and I hope you like my stuff. :3**

**This is far from my first fic, I have done oneshots left and right, but this is going to be the first chapter fic I've ever seriously worked on, and the first I've ever posted on the Internet. I am a huge fan of Soul Calibur, and of the characters Yoshimitsu and Cervantes from the series. Yoshi is a real hoot, and Cerv is as evil as it gets!**

**Yoshi: But I, dear audience, am cuter. Dost thou not agree?**

**Cerv: Riiiiiiight... cute. Keep telling yourself that.**

**Yoshi: Well, maybe I will! *pouts with arms crossed***

**Cerv: Oy... *rubs bridge of nose* Hay algo seriamente mal con usted...**

**Yoshi: D'AAAAAAAH! I HATE it when thou speak Spanish!**

**ANYWAY. On with the tale! This first chapter is Cervantes centered. Yoshi gets his limelight in Chapter 2. Please Review!))**

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_Celestina stared out the window at her husband's retreating back. She should have known... Philip could never stay in one place for long, and his love for her and their son sometimes seemed overshadowed by his love for the sea and gambling. A few tears fell from her brown eyes, and she absently began to play with her long, auburn hair._

_"Madre, where is Padre going? He promised me he would stay home for my thirteenth birthday! Why is he leaving again?" A young dark-haired, hazel-eyed boy asked. He would not be a boy much longer, in his father's words. At twelve years old, and soon to enter his teen years, he would need to learn the trade of his father soon. _

_"Because, child, it is his duty to our King and country. He must go where he is told, when he is told to," Celestina replied. This, she knew, was untrue. Philip was indeed a privateer, serving under the King of Spain, but he also left on 'pleasure trips' more often than not. She knew he was lying when he said he needed to go. He just wanted to get away from Valencia, from land, and from his responsibilities as a husband and a father. It hurt her so much to know that he felt this way, that she and their son were nothing more than an obligation that could be escaped._

_Nevertheless, their son looked up to the man like nothing else. He wanted to be like him since he was four years old, when he would follow his father around and ask many questions about his last trip. His father seemed all too happy to answer them, telling tales of his adventures at sea fighting the villainous British, and of course, his victories against his crewmates at various games of chance._

_Celestina feared that they would soon pay the price for the dreams of grandeur Philip put into Cervantes' head._

_**~Five Months Later~**_

_The news was devastating indeed, to both wife and son. The letter had come, and Celestina had assumed it was one from Philip, telling of his impending return to Valencia. But when she opened it and read the first line, a wail of grief rose in her throat._

_Philip was dead. Killed in an ambush from a British warship disguised as a cargo galleon. _

_At the grievous sound, Cervantes ran down the stairs, wondering what was wrong with his mother. "Madre! Madre, what happened?" he cried, rushing to his mother's side. His birthday had come and gone, and he had been attempting to live up to the role of "man of the house" while his father was away._

_"Cervantes... your father... the British..." Celestina sobbed. That was all she could get out before breaking down again._

_"Padre... he's dead?" Cervantes asked, his voice wavering. In spite of his want to be a man so badly, he could not stop a tear. He vehemently wiped it away, not wanting to cry in front of anyone. In spite of this, more tears began falling, which were removed just as viciously._

_"Y-yes, son..." _

_It was then that Cervantes, young though he was, made the decision that would completely alter the course of his life. If this was what happened to those whose allegiances lay with Spain and its King, then he would have no involvement. _

_Running up to his room, he began to gather a few belongings, still tearful. He always wanted to sail the seas like his father, to slaughter the British who had wronged Spain so many times, and had now wronged him personally. They would pay. They thought they had won the battle against Philip de Leon, but had instead unleashed something infinitely worse than he had ever been..._

**~Present~**

The rain poured down on the deck of the ship, mixing with the blood already soaking it. Corpses littered the wet wood, most of which were dismembered in some way. The captain cowered back into a corner, seeming quite frightened, with a pistol leveled at his assailant. One of his legs was missing, but he would not back down without taking the demon who severed his limb with him.

"Now what to do with you... Ah! I have an idea! You're a betting man, are you not?" The aforementioned demon grinned dementedly, taking a gold coin out from a belt pouch.

"Wha-what... are you tal-talking about?" the captain stammered.

Cervantes chuckled. It would have sounded genuinely amused, were it not for the grisly situation. "Heads, I take you back to that port there..." he gestured with his head to the port that glowed on the horizon faintly through the deluge, "... and get you the help you would need to survive. Tails, I decorate the deck with your entrails." He idly played with the coin between his fingers.

The captain of the French cargo ship darted his eyes toward the port briefly, then returned to meet the pale, featureless eyes of Cervantes. "Ve... Very well." It was his only chance to live, and he would gladly take it, for the sake of his new wife back in Bordeaux.

"There's a good lad."

The coin flew upwards, tumbling through the air, seeming to take an eternity before landing back in the pirate captain's hand. He peered at it, and frowned.

"Dammit!" he swore as his lip curled up in a sneer. This lit a spark of hope in the Frenchman's eyes.

"What is it?" he enquired.

"And here I thought I'd be able to fight you again. It's tails, lad." His sneer turned into a stomach-turning smile as he tossed his weapons aside. This puzzled the young captain. Was he going to kill him with his bare hands, while he himself was holding a pistol?

As the psychotic sailor approached him, he squeezed the trigger and fired at Cervantes. A smoking hole appeared in the middle of his chest... but no blood flowed. He just casually looked down at the bullet hole, an eyebrow raised.

"What... what are you?"

Looking back up, his everpresent grin returned. "One rotten roll of the dice for you."

Any who came upon the scene would find unrecognizably maimed corpses scattered about... one of which held a gold coin in his nearly-severed hand.

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**((Cerv: Now wasn't that delightful, readers? ... WASN'T IT?**

**LF: Please review before he goes Davy Jones on all of us! *hides with Yoshi behind the couch*))**


	2. Of Thieves and Nobles

**((Yoshi: *helicopters in* Greetings, ladies and gentlemen of the good fortune to be in my presence! I regret to inform thee that Lucky Flip and Cervantes could not join us today. Lucky is... otherwise occupied... *pounding and shouting from inside closet door*... and I believe Cervantes is polishing his longsword Acheron. Again.**

**Anyway, this is my chapter! Do enjoy, and thou shouldst review. Lucky is unable to tell whether or not people like it, with all the views and only two people thoughtful enough to leave a review. Please, tell her what thou thinkest of this work, so she will know whether it is even worth her time and effort to continue.**

**On a side note, this chapter contains some slight references of the suggestive variety. But 'tis me of whom we speak, is it not?**

**And without further ado, the pure, unadultered amazingness that is me shall commence! *pogo-sticks away*))**

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_On the other side of the world, off the mainland of the continent of Asia, there lay a land that few European men had ever trodden. It was a land of legends. Legends of mighty warriors, of mythic creatures, and of hidden secrets and treasures. _

_One such secret treasure lay at the base of a semi-active volcano surrounded by thick forests. It was a small village, seeming rather typical at first, but few knew of its existence, for good reason. _

_The Japanese daimyo known as Oda Nobunaga was attempting to 'unify' the country of Japan, and if any decided they disliked the idea, they were crushed beneath the growing empire's might. The small village would have been a huge asset to Nobunaga's empire, due to the unsurpassed warriors who called the tiny hamlet home._

_"Aniki-san, where is our father? I have wondered for a long time now." A little girl walked next to a sixteen-year-old boy, not far from the rest of the village. The child was named Naoko, for she was indeed an honest child. _

_The teenager was her elder brother, Yoshimitsu. He knew better than to explain just how their father grew to be absent from his and his siblings' lives, as Naoko was far too young to understand death. _

_"He has left on a great journey, Naoko. We will see him again one day. Do not fear," Yoshimitsu replied, smiling softly at his youngest sister. His other two sisters, Yuki and Sadako, were back home, taking care of their aging grandmother. _

_"Oh. All right. When will we get to see him again, Aniki-san?" Naoko was now more intrigued than ever, which was the exact opposite of what her brother wanted._

_"I do not know for certain, Naoko-chan. But I do know that wherever he may be, he is most likely thinking of us."_

_With that, the two siblings made their way back to the village._

**~Present~**

"Yoshimitsu-sama? Your orders?"

The leader of the Manjitou shook his masked head, brought back to reality by his second-in-command Sakon's query. He had been reminiscing far too often lately. Those days were gone. Over with. Finished. Lingering on the past would do no good for anyone, especially not while on a heist mission.

"Oh!" He looked at the map laid out before himself, Sakon, and Sakon's twin Ukon, completely forgetting what the conversation they were having was even about. "Er..."

"My lord, we were discussing a raid on the palace at Osaka. I believe the last thing you said was to keep the party that goes in small, before you drifted off," Ukon supplied.

"Oh yes! Arigato, Ukon." Without missing a beat, the last living Manji clan member sprung into tactical discussion of how the raid was to be conducted.

After the plan was decided, he returned to his tent to think. Why had these memories been haunting him so? They had never really bothered him since he started the Manjitou. Perhaps he should rest, he had had all of three hours of sleep the previous night. He felt if he stayed awake much longer he would go mad.

Removing his helmet, his long midnight hair fell, unbound, down his back. He was grateful to be rid of the encumbering piece of armor, and began to work on his mask. The silver ceramic visage was soon removed, revealing a handsome, clean-shaven, and shockingly young face. It was true; the legendary Manjitou leader, the Laughing Demon, was a tender twenty-two years old.

Removing his haori and breastplate, he finally succumbed to the temptation of the bedroll a few feet away from him and went to sleep. He even left his greaves on.

**~The Next Day~**

Yoshimitsu knew that Osaka would be different from anywhere his group had heisted before, seeing as they rarely ventured south of their headquarters on Mt. Fuji. But just how different, he had no clue. For one thing, rather than pines and evergreens dominating the landscape, there were sakura trees filling the air with their sweet scent... and their petals.

"How do these people _live_ here?" Ukon complained, plucking several petals from his hair and armor. "They are like cicadas in the summer!"

Sakon wasn't doing much better, trying to kick them off the bottoms of his zori sandals. "I know! It surprises me that one of us hasn't accidentally eaten one yet."

"Cease thy complaining! Thou art grown men, now start behaving as such!" Yoshimitsu admonished, growing irritated with his group's constant whining. It had been near-nonstop since about two hours after they left, mostly among the newer recruits. As they went along, however, the griping soon became contagious. Although the leader of the Manjitou wouldn't admit it, he was irritated with more than just the complaints coming from his men.

Yoshimitsu was young, male, and of strong body. Unfortunately for the women of Japan, he had a libido just as strong, if not stronger. It had been more than three months since a woman had graced his bed, and this amounted to a rather cranky Manji.

He hoped and prayed that he would hold out until Osaka.


End file.
